


Hold Me Up, I Want To Fall In Love With You

by venomedveins



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Angsty (Nasir talks about his past, Have you seen Dan's arms?, I made this sex position up, It could work, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomedveins/pseuds/venomedveins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nasir's fears come in the form of nightmares. Agron wishes to banish them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me Up, I Want To Fall In Love With You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crazzzedope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazzzedope/gifts).



> prompt from crazzzedope: nasir gets tied up. he has some deep-seated demons needing to be exorcised. one too many night-terrors that he can’t keep agron from knowing and agron needs nasir to realize that he’s safe and should always trust in agron’s brand of loving to heal him sexually and mentally. and most importantly, that agron’s shoulders are strong enough to bear any weight nasir has — to take it and turn it into love and pleasure and bliss.

With constant threat of Rome pressing upon their backs, rising conflict of Crixus' loyalty, and freed slaves needing training to resist such, it is not a surprise to Nasir when Agron comes to their chambers barely awake on his feet most nights. He blinks tired eyes at Nasir, kisses his temple and jaw, tries to work up energy to take Nasir but can't. He always feels guilty after, in the morning light, pressing quick and dirty kisses to Nasir's mouth as he strokes the other's cock. Nasir does not mind being woken up as such, but misses comfort of darkness surrounding them when most intimate moment is shared. 

Yet still, there are nights when Agron does not come to him, unable to steal even few moments to wish blissful dreams. He is often needed to council Spartacus into the early morning light, or it is his turn to sit upon wall to keep slumbering rebels safe. (Or the few nights that press of loss of brother upon Agron is too heavy and he can not do anything but stare up at the sky with a blank look and tears in eyes.) Agron can only mutter apologies after, twisting a lock of Nasir's hair around his fingers as they share meal.

Nasir drowns in solitude when Agron is not beside him. 

Night terrors slip into what once was silent sleep, forcing tears and screams to be muffled in pillows pressed between trembling lips. He snags his nails in the blankets as he tries to cocoon himself away from the endless darkness. Alone with the memories and fears that replay over and over in his mind, he can not escape what is inside of him.

He is often revisited by his old dominus in these dreams. The first few times when the Roman had him, before Nasir learned to close his eyes and slip out of his mind. When boyhood was not yet fleeing from him and Nasir did not know what his body was for and still clung to foolish notions of love or salvation.

Others had him after, on his knees either way, too young to know better and when he gained age, he saw it as privilege to service his master and respect members of Rome. He was chosen to service cock, the prettiest slave with long enough hair to yank and sharp bones to bruise. What other height could he achieve?

It still amazes Nasir, shocks him when Agron kisses him as if Nasir is made of glass. Brushes hair out of his eyes as if he's afraid that touching Nasir would break him. Agron is not a gentle man, has no need when others submit to his power, fearful admiration and lust. Nasir is no different. Agron does not need to be gentle. Nasir does not deserve such. Worse men have caused more damage than Agron ever will be able to. But that is not actually true. 

Agron could cause Nasir the worst pain. 

For Agron could turn his attentions away from Nasir. He could grow cold, distant. He could find bed warmed and heart filled with another, and Nasir knows he could not survive such. 

There is no one else for Nasir than Agron. The gods must have crafted them together in their hands, Venus herself kissing their union. 

Yet, Nasir knows that he not worthy of such a man. No matter what prayers and offers of repentance he pleads to the gods, he can never erase the fingerprints of every other man that has been on his body. He can not make the flinching and crying and blank expression of his past life disappear. 

Underneath he is Nasir, yet Tiberius still whispers in his ear at all times. 

He gets so close to slipping back into servitude. Still becomes afraid to meet Agron's eyes, tries to turn over onto hands and knees. Reaches for his collar when it's not there to anchor him, silence him. Expects someone to strike him when he opens his mouth before he thinks. 

\- - - 

Nasir wakes up to the sound of the door mats sliding shut and Agron dropping his sword belt to the floor. He realizes he's been screaming, throat sore and face still damp with tears. Another nightmare where Nasir could not move nor speak, only watch as men came at him, sneering with clawed hands. After so many nightmares of the same thing, he is still surprised that it can scare him so. 

Rubbing along his cheek, Nasir pushes his hair out of his eyes and listens. He can make out the faint noises of Agron stripping behind him, breathing loud and restless. It's when he lights the candles beside their bed that Nasir begins to fear., unable to turn over and face the man.

It is possible that Agron heard his cries and has grow tired of the constant noises and fears. He has just cause to be so. Nasir can not banish the demons that haunt him. He has tried. He knows, somewhere deep inside him that he is safe. Agron will not raise hand to him. Will not cause injury beyond the love bites and snags that litter both Nasir's neck and thighs. 

“Nasir, turn over to me.” Agron's fingers are strong and sure on his shoulder, gently tugging on the bone. 

Biting his raw and chapped lips, Nasir turns over with clenched eyes. He can feel his eyelashes sticking together but can't look. He isn't ready to see the look of disappointment on Agron's beautiful face. 

“Hush little man,” Agron's surprisingly soft lips touch his forehead, moving down to kiss just below each of his eyebrows and Nasir is unable to keep the sobs at bay. Burrowing his face into Agron's chest, his greedy fingers hold onto Agron's back, wishing to sink into the safe hold that is Agron. 

“Why did you not come find me when dreams threatened you?” Petting the other man's hair, Agron rests his lips to Nasir's temple. 

“I could not. I could not,” Nasir whimpers, eyes still trying to keep the terror from tangibility. 

“Do you not trust me to shoulder weight?” Agron asks, gently but firmly pulling Nasir back across the bed so that he may gaze upon his face. 

Nasir licks his lips and tastes salt. 

“It is not your position to vanquish my weakness.”

“Not my position? Would I not storm the fucking heavens to bring you peace? Have I not open the stone-hold of my heart and allowed you within? Do you doubt my affections for you?”

“No!” Nasir opens his eyes, startled by Agron's growling tenor. 

“Then why? Why do you recoil from me as I have caused injury?”

“I am a weak man. I have holes within myself that are vast and dark voids. Your brilliance should not be subjected to such darkness. I am used boy. You can not possible want me forever. You will find me lacking and I am. I am lacking – everything that you already posses.”

Agron sits up slowly, scowl digging into the corners of his usually dimpled cheeks. Nasir feels the icicle tendrils of nausea slide into his gut, tears beginning to creep back into the corners of his eyes. He should reach for his vest, get dressed and flee into woods. He does not belong among the rebels, nor is he beautiful enough to become someone's house pet again. 

“Still tongue and mind.” The German reaches behind him, slowly pulling a sash that managed to find dwelling among their blankets. “You find yourself lacking yet am I not also? If I can not fucking prove myself to you already, then I am at fucking fault – not you.”

“No, Agron, it is not-”

Agron cuts Nasir off with hand. 

“Let me prove to you that my heart – my whole being – is within your palms.” He lays a kiss to very center of Nasir's right hand and lets those same fingertips drag along his jaw. “I have been trained for nothing but the slaying of men and monsters. Let me do away with yours.”

Nasir blinks a few times before sliding across the blankets to straddle the gladiator's lap. Pressing his lips feverishly to Agron's, he feels as if he's scorched man within desert and can not get his fill of Agron's cool mouth. Agron in turn grips the Syrian's hair in one first, keeping the kisses wet but slow, tracking the soft tissue of Nasir's tongue with his own. Nasir's brow furrows, feeling restrained and yet somehow freer than the removing of collar felt. 

“Let me take apart this fear,” Agron whispers into Nasir's mouth and the man can only nod, unable to comprehend movement of mouth unless it is against Agron's. 

Laying the smaller man onto his back, Agron caresses Nasir's arms as he raises them above the Syrian's head. Using the sash from before, he slowly wraps and knots the fabric in an intricate bind, starting from Nasir's elbows up to his wrists. He does not need to say anything as Nasir knows not to move. Though the fabric is tied securely, Agron knows it won't hurt him. It's simply to let Nasir relax.

He moves down, trailing soft kisses along the center of Nasir's torso, nipping teasingly at dusty pink nipples. Nasir whimpers but does not move, restrained by cloth and will. He is unable to look away from Agron's descent, biting his bottom lip until bloody to keep his noises at bay. Not yet. He knows that Agron will take care of him, reach highest completion together. 

Agron does not lend his own cock the satisfaction of notice, though the drag of heated flesh on Nasir's thick thighs is perfect friction. He can not help but thrust into the sharp cut of Nasir's hip, leaning up to suck on Nasir's neck, biting marks into the skin. The smaller man hisses softly but moves his head more to the side to give permission. 

Agron continues leaving marks until he reaches the other's pants.. With sure fingers, he easily unties them and frees Nasir from the last of his clothing. Nasir can feel his thighs beginning to tremble but does not move. He won't unless Agron moves him. He has to trust that Agron will know when and what to do for him. 

Spreading the other's legs gently, Agron settles between with a contemplative look on his face. He is unsure of which part of Nasir he wishes to touch first, settling for tracing his fingertips along the fragile bones of the other's ankles. Sudden fear strikes mind and Agron must ask before actions continue. 

“You are allowing me this to free you, to prove my undying affections for you, yes? To heal and shoulder crushing weight. Not because I am your master. You know this, Nasir?”

Eyes fluttering open, Nasir groans and nods. 

“I need to hear you say such. If you do not want this, at any time, you must give voice. I will not continue actions if you do not wish it.” Agron grips the tops of Nasir's thighs, tone sharp.

“Agron, you are my master though. There is nothing you could ask for that I would not freely give to you. But no, there is no collar that rests around my neck that shows I am your property. I will give voice to concern, though I doubt I will need such.”

Nasir rubs his calf along Agron's side for reassurance, though his eyes are still wet from before. He is still unsure how they arrived here. Why is Agron not recoiling? This is not warrior Nasir. This is not even body slave Tiberius. This is just Nasir, stripped of title and sword. 

Agron does not prompt him further, just moves down to engulf the head of Nasir's cock. The moan that rips out of the Syrian is so loud Agron can feel it vibrating against his lips, yet it doesn't deter him from swirling his tongue over and over the soft skin. 

He knows he was the first to do this to Nasir, give pleasure with lips and tongue. Nasir had been so shocked the first time, trying to scramble away and blushing, refusing to let Agron kneel again. It was an act of servitude, the first in which Nasir had learned when he was a body slave. The way he is opening up for him now though is incomparable.

Nasir arches his back, trying to sink further into the furnace between Agron's lips. Somehow, an act that should have been the lowest of degrading in Nasir's mind, Agron turns into highest compliment. He knows Nasir's body as if it is extension of his own, tracing the vein along his throbbing cock while caressing the other's hips.   
“Fuck. Don't stop. Gods, don't stop.”

He tastes bitter and salty, lingering along Agron's tonsils and filling his mouth with tiny drips of precome. The gladiator grins and moves his head down further, allowing his cheeks to hollow as he keeps gaze upon Nasir's pink face. His mouth hangs open in tiny pants and whines, wiggling when he can't reach down and grasp Agron's hair like he wants to, trace over his jaw and feel his own cock within Agron's mouth.

Agron pulls off only to move lower, wrapping one hand around the reddened flesh as he licks along Nasir's balls, sucking on the skin softly. He can hear Nasir's rhythmic panting above him, drowning out the sounds of the others outside of this room. Gripping Nasir's hips enough to bruise, Agron tips Nasir up until his tongue slides against his opening. 

“Shit. Oh fuck. Please.”

This is also forbidden to Nasir, who squirms and didn't understand the first time Agron had held him against bed to taste him. Agron can not get enough though, and knows he could do this forever if Nasir would only let him. Stab pointed tongue into inner workings of Nasir's always tight and sweltering body, tasting the sweat and salt and musk that permeates the air around his most intimate parts. 

“Ah-gron!” 

Nasir wiggles almost too rough as the German's grip becomes tighter in order not to drop him. There will be bruises tomorrow, Agron is sure of it, brands that mark Nasir as his own and allow others in camp to be reminded of it. They are not there as if collar or ownership, yet Agron likes them visible anyways.

Nasir is only supported by his shoulder blades now, as Agron has lifted his feast up high enough that the German can kneel. Nasir's heels drag and kick uselessly at the broad expanse of Agron's shoulders, looking for a support and realizing quickly that it is all Agron's. Nasir must trust that Agron has him, completely. 

Securing Nasir's knees upon Agron's shoulder, he pulls away only to rub sure and steady hands up Nasir's back to grip his waist. With one powerful move, he lifts the Syrian completely off the bed, keeping him balanced with a large palm between his shoulder blades as Agron takes Nasir's cock back in his mouth.

Nasir has to close his eyes quickly from the dizzy spell he receives from being upon such heights, unable to grasp onto anything, he lets the beast of a man support him, focusing solely on the pleasure Agron's talented tongue and mouth can bring his throbbing cock.

He's leaking everywhere, knowing he's close even before soft fingertips press inside of him. The howl that echos around the room shocks Nasir into whimpers as Agron finds hidden place inside of him almost instantly – enough practice to know where it is. Stimulation of cock within mouth and fingers is too much and the Syrian begins to rock back and forth, chasing pleasure from both ends. 

Later, Nasir will marvel at strength of man below him to balance Nasir's weight upon shoulders and also allow him to fuck Agron's mouth. Now though, he can only continue movement, so close to completion he does not notice the drool of spit and precome on Agron's jaw, making mess out of it. Nor the way Agron's cock is leaking profusely against his own tight stomach. Nasir can only focus on the bright green eyes below him, staring up at Nasir with enough heat to suddenly force completion upon him. 

Nasir knows he must be screaming. He must be because his throat is sore and when Agron lays him back down to kiss him, the noise stops, but he can't focus. Blissful pleasure burns through his body, making him squirm and writhe, grip Agron's hips with his knees now that he is able, and rubbing sensitive skin along cut of firm abs above him. He feels it hit his chest, his cheek, and then Agron's rough tongue taking it away again. 

It is not for some time that he comes back to the present to feel the German gently unwrapping his arms. He's still hard, the thick length of Agron standing proud and red among a nestle of sand colored hair. Nasir instinctively reaches for it but Agron gently pushes his arms back down. 

“Unnecessary, little man. Pleasure was aimed for you.” Agron smiles softly at him, running fingers along stubbled jaw. 

“My pleasure is to give you pleasure.” Nasir mumbles through cotton dry lips. 

“Then I shall kiss you weak kneed, for that is all the pleasure I require.”

With Agron distracted by Nasir biting into his mouth, he does manage to get fist around Agron's cock. It is short time, shortest it has ever been, before Agron gives pained groan and splatters across Nasir's stomach. He runs his fingers through the mess, sharing it between Nasir's lips and his own, both their tastes mingling to a point where the Syrian is sure they are going to fuck again, but Agron pulls away. 

“Are you well enough to sleep?”

“I can not feel limbs, let alone pain.” Nasir grins, brushing curly bangs from his eyes. 

“You are safe, _schatz_. I will protect you from monsters beyond these walls and within your own.” 

Agron wraps his arm tightly around Nasir, holding him close, and Nasir begins to breathe again.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](venomedveins.tumblr.com) for more nagron fun :D


End file.
